Weakness
by Smoltenica
Summary: Jacqueline was never her mother's favourite. That was Marguerite. But that doesn't explain why she became friends with Danielle, the 'servant girl', does it? A study into Jacqueline as a child and a seemingly insignificant event that changed her life.


**Weakness**

Jacqueline had always had a certain fondness for food. Thus, it was not much of a surprise when she was caught taking a third piece of bread, but for her mother, the ambitious Rodmilla de Ghent, it was an abomination that simply had to be stopped.

"Jacqueline," said the Baroness sternly, "it is not seemly for a future lady of court to be seen taking more than one helping. Two at the most, but three- why, you would be counted as one of the servants!"

"I suppose," said Marguerite sweetly, "that you will soon be eating with Danielle. Amongst the pigs."

Jacqueline flushed. "I am sorry, Mother," she said, and promptly took a bite. Her mother was aghast.

"Gluttony is not welcome in this household! It is not ever becoming for a lady of the court to-"

"Then I don't want to be a lady of the court!"

"Didn't I tell you, Mother?" Marguerite simpered, and Jacqueline glared at her.

The Baroness composed herself for a moment. "Jacqueline, I have been more than fair," she said. "From now on, we are training for your sister to reach court. As her sister, it is your duty to become a respectable lady."

"Marguerite!" cried Jacqueline, feeling slightly petty. "Marguerite, Marguerite, Marguerite! Why is it always about Marguerite?"

"I will not tolerate such behaviour from you!" snarled the Baroness.

Jacqueline was very quiet for the rest of supper.

"You had better make her wear last year's dresses," she heard Marguerite say scornfully, as she left. "It is as you always say, Mother- if one cannot breathe, one cannot eat."

They laughed, and Jacqueline flushed, and quickly hurried down the corridor.

_Marguerite this, Marguerite that,_ she thought fiercely. _Just because Marguerite is prettier and never takes more than one serving of food!_

As if on cue, the tears began prickling behind her eyes, and she brushed past one of the servants and flung open the door to her room.

Sometimes she felt so very lonely.

--

"Here," said a small voice, and slightly rough hands helped her from the floor to the bed. She felt a wet cloth pressed into her hands, and opened an eye blearily.

It was Danielle, her step-sister.

She didn't see Danielle very often, not since her father had died two years ago. The Baroness had sent Danielle to work with the servants, and Jacqueline didn't want to associate herself with them.

"Go away, Danielle," she ordered. If her mother showed Danielle no affections, why should she?

Danielle flinched slightly, but curtsied and began to leave the room.

"You're nothing but a silly little servant," Jacqueline muttered, and Danielle swung around at the door, her face blazing.

"I may not be much more than a servant," she said, and her voice took on a slightly steely tone that almost made Jacqueline flinch- Jacqueline, who had been in charge of the scene just a moment before!

"No," Danielle continued, "I am nothing but a servant now, but I will have you know this: I am not stupid at all. I may not be in training to be a lady of the court, but I am no more ignorant than yourself. And I can tell you this; you are nothing but a girl as young as I, afraid of your mother, and unhappy with your 'situation in life'."

"I am not afraid of my mother!" Jacqueline bristled, but Danielle kept speaking.

"Your 'situation'!" she cried, and gave a slightly hysterical laugh. "Two years ago, I would almost have killed to have your 'situation'! Now I would not give anything to be in your place, for you are nothing but a lonely, conceited person who will not consort with anyone below your 'status' in life- not your own stepsister, not Gustave, nor any of the servants- and you have no one, for you are an outcast from your own family!"

"Stop it!"

"No, I will not stop it, for I cannot help speaking the truth," Danielle snapped. "But if you will not listen to it, then it is not my place to speak."

Then she really left- closed the door, and Jacqueline heard her footsteps fading down the corridor.

The nerve of the girl! To walk in, unannounced, and proceed to yell at her! Didn't she know who she was? Didn't she know that she, Jacqueline, was the daughter of the mistress of the house? That she, Danielle, was nothing but a little servant? Her father was dead, she had lost all claim to whatever title she had once held.

That was what her mother had said.

And saying such things about her mother! And her sister! To say that she, Jacqueline, was an outcast amongst them!

"_Jacqueline, I have been more than fair. From now on, we are training for your sister to reach court. As her sister, it is your duty to become a respectable lady."_

Jacqueline closed her eyes and pressed the cloth to her face.

It couldn't be true, it couldn't! But now she could not stop remembering all those years she thought her mother might love her as much as Marguerite, if she followed the instructions, learned her lessons- they had not done anything, had they? Marguerite could scream and throw tantrums, and still the Baroness would shower her with affection.

Jacqueline gasped and hiccoughed, and stretched out to reach for her pillow.

Danielle was right.

No, no, she couldn't be!

But even as she tried to stem the tears, she knew; she wanted nothing more in the world than to be loved by her mother, to feel as though she belonged- but that was not for her.

Danielle was right.

She threw the damp cloth across the room, and somehow didn't receive the satisfaction she had been expecting when it slid down against the wall.

Danielle was right.

"Stop it!" she screamed.

Hurried footsteps came echoing down the corridor.

"Stupid," she told herself angrily. "You just had to go and call, and make Mother come and get angry, didn't you? Stupid, stupid, stupid!"

The door creaked open, and she fell silent.

"_Jacqueline! What is this terrible display?"_

"_I'm sorry, Mother, I didn't mean-"_

"_You didn't mean. What am I supposed to do with you? Marguerite…"_

"Are you all right?"

A timid voice, a small face surrounded by pretty but dirty hair-

"Danielle!"

Danielle scurried inside and quickly closed the door, giving a quick, searching look behind her.

"Oh no," Jacqueline breathed, "Mother hasn't come, has she?"

"No," said Danielle, "I don't think she is here. There are merchants outside, and she is buying Marguerite a brooch."

"Marguerite!" Jacqueline exploded. "Always Marguerite!"

There was a slightly uncomfortable silence. Danielle bit her lip, and Jacqueline wondered whether she was going to fly out at her again- but it didn't look like it.

"I'm sorry about shouting at you earlier," Danielle apologised. "I really shouldn't have- and don't worry about anything I said, I was just angry and didn't mean any of it."

"No," said Jacqueline, almost surprising herself. "What you said was true."

Another awkward pause.

"… I had better go and help Louise in the kitchen," Danielle said, twisting her apron slightly.

Jacqueline managed to give her a small smile.

Danielle bobbed into a quick curtsey, and exited the room, quietly closing the door.

"Thankyou," Jacqueline murmured. Then she composed herself, went to the basin, and washed her face.

For a moment, she felt like telling her mother of what had come to pass, but decided the better of it.

Her mother, she decided, need not know that she had started talking to the servants.

--

_A/N: My first 'Ever After' fic! Firstly, I'd like to send a huge thanks to Morohtar for reading over this, although he wasn't familiar with this fandom._

_I hope I didn't paint anyone particularly OOC, but if I have, just drop a note and say so. At any rate, I hope you liked this!_


End file.
